Mouse

- trinity let dennis drive to work once and never again ("you act like you're afraid of the other cars" "i am!" "oh my god.")

- they watch a lot of dumb reality tv -- dennis is partial to home renovation shows and trinity loves survivor. they are certified dating show haters, which is why they've seen every season of love is blind

- dennis isn't even making avocado toast. he steals them to put in salads. trinity thinks this should be a felony

- he trims her hair for her. she returns the favor by insisting he go to a real barbershop, because his mom shaved his head at home until he left, then he kept cutting it himself until she made him stop

- every time they get sunday off they make cinnamon rolls from scratch (once they wake up at noon)

- they are MASTERS of the "we'll talk later" stare. princess & perlah get in a fight in tagalog? robby makes a weird remark to mckay? patient comments about javadi checking out a new nurse? they have locked eyes. doesn't matter if they're three rooms away from each other. they are communicating telepathically

- their place has like. two tiny windows. it's a dark little cave and dennis tries to grow herbs on the windowsills anyway. trinity thinks it's stupid until he starts making homemade pasta sauce with his tiny basil harvests. she keeps telling him it's dumb but sometimes comes home with new planters. she likes how gently he handles the roots when he pulls them up to repot.

"Hail, Holy Queen, Mother of Mercy, our life, our sweetness and our hope."

Dennis's hands trembled as much as his voice, thin and breathless with fear. His hands thumbed over each bead of his mother's rosary, clutching the crucifix until his palms stung from the sharp corners of the cross. He stared at the old wood floorboards he was sat on. "Dennis." Robby's voice was soft, concerned, and a life time ago it might have been comforting. Now it only filled his stomach with oil-slick dread. His dry throat clicked with his thick swallow. "Too thee we cry, poor banished children of Eve. To thee do we send up our sighs, mourning and weeping in this valley of tears."

"You're just going to hurt yourself, Dennis. It won't turn you back- I know this is... an adjustment." Dennis felt more tears slide down his face. The lone lantern set on the tool table next to Dennis reflected in Robby's concerned eyes, like a nocturnal predator. A reminder of what he was, what they were.

What Dennis was turning into.

"Turn then, most gracious advocate, thine eyes of mercy towards us, and after this our exile-"

"Can you let us in, sweetheart?" Robby tried again, like he'd been trying for the last 4 hours since Dennis found the structure and ran inside.

"The sun comes up in three hours. Are you just going to stay here?" Jack's low, raspy baritone made Dennis jolt where he was curled up against the back wall of the shed, away from the open double doors where bright moonlight battled with the warm lamp glow. He paced the perimeter like a cat waiting for a mouse, doing nothing to hide his monstrous tendencies like Robby was. But even Robby wasn't doing a good job- his chest was too still, didn't rise with breath. He stood still with the eerie stoniness of a living statue, of a dog hearing a twig snap in the underbrush.

"-shown unto us the blessed fruit of thy womb, J-" Dennis wretched against the Divine name that burned his throat like acid, choking on his tongue. The air was beginning to smell of singed skin, his fingers burning and smoking around the beads. The pain only pushed him forward, whispering with urgency.

Trinity just has “Trin” and it irritates the fuck out of her because everyone she’s ever become moderately friendly with ends up calling her that. She adopts a habit of giving everyone a nickname so her soulmate will know it’s her.

Which is how Dennis ends up with “Huckleberry” stamped low on his waist. Dangerously close to ass territory. Santos being his soulmate is a bit distressing at first because they don’t seem to have a lot in common and also he was certain he was gay up until that point, but when Trinity starts flirting with Garcia he calms down. Not to mention how thrilled he is when she invites him to live with her the day they meet. This soulmate thing is easy peasy.

As soon as she says to call her “Trinity” he jumps to “Trin.” Dennis isn’t even thinking about it, it rolls off his tongue naturally, but of course Trinity doesn’t think anything of it.

One day she overhears Dennis talking about finding his soulmate with a patient who’s anxious to find their own, and she’s so upset.

Why didn’t he tell her? She’d never admit it, but Huckleberry is her best friend, and she thought he felt the same way. Who’s his soulmate? When did he meet them? Oh God, is it Amy?

It could be. Huckleberry distinctly said “she,” which caught her off guard because she’d been pretty confident in him being gay considering the amount of bitching he does about Grindr hookups. Maybe he’s bi and she’s been stereotyping. She’ll have to work on that.

“Sooooo, Casanova,” she says. “You’ve been holding out on me.”

“Huh?”

“All this soulmate chit-chat with a patient and none for me?” She exaggerates her pout, though it reflects her actual feelings pretty closely.

“Oh, right,” he laughs. “How rude of me.”

“It’s a little rude,” Trin mutters.

Victoria’s head pokes up from behind her computer. “You have a soulmate?”

“Most people do.”

“Yeah, but you know him.”

“Her.”

Her jaw drops and a blush rushes to her face. “Ohmygod I’m so sorry! I—“

“It’s fine,” Huckleberry doesn’t look up from his own charting. “I’m gay, but my soulmate is a girl.”

Tension leaks out of her immediately, “oh, thank God.”

“I’m pretty sure my soulmate is my sister,” Mel says. “But we just call each other ‘Mel’ and ‘Becca’ so it’s hard to know for sure, but the writing is close I think.”

“Mine just says ‘babe’,” Victoria says.

“A classic,” Dennis nods.

“It’s so annoying,” she continues. “Like, there’s no way to be certain.”

“You could give everyone a distinct nickname,” Trinity says. “That’s what I do.”

“Tell me about it,” Dennis rolls his eyes.

“Don’t act like you don’t love it, Huckleberry.”

“I appreciate it.”

Victoria raises one eyebrow. “You do?”

“Made her easy to find didn’t it?”

Trinity has the realization the same time Victoria does. “Oh my God,” she looks between them. “You guys are soulmates?”

“Duh.”

“Duh?” Trinity scoffs.

Dennis finally looks up from his computer, his big eyes shrink into a squint, studying her. “Did you not know?”

“How would I know?”

“Because we have each other’s marks!”

“You have my mark. Apparently.”

“You have mine,” he points to ‘Trin’ scrawled right above the crook of her elbow. Which, now that she’s looking at it, is suspiciously similar to Huckleberry’s handwriting.

“Okay, that’s not… everyone calls me that.”

Mel chimes in, “I don’t call you that.”

“Let me get this straight,” Dennis faces her. She loathes the smug smile he’s wearing. “You invented a stranger to live with you the day you met.”

“I’m a very kind person, Huckleberry. You have a saint for a soulmate.”

“Uh huh, and you never felt any sort of connection.”

She did, but it’s more likely for lightning to strike her here in the middle of the ED than for her to admit it. “Where’s your mark? I’m your soulmate; prove it.”